


Crystal Skies

by OpaqueXApathy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gray Jedi, Implied Master/Padawan Relationship(s), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), POV Qui-Gon Jinn, Padawan Obi-Wan, Tragic Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpaqueXApathy/pseuds/OpaqueXApathy
Summary: When Obi-Wan was 15 years old - his Master had given him 'the talk'. About how it was perfectly natural to be experiencing attractions of both an emotional and sexual nature. And how that fit into the Jedi Code (or how it was excluded and discouraged). Never mind that Qui-Gon knows that the bond he and Obi-Wan have is steadily deepening and maturing as his Padawan does. Never mind that they're already close to breaking from love of a deeper order. Never mind that he's nearly becoming attracted to his Padawan too and given a few years time, he might be hopelessly in love with the boy. Never mind that he already is.So nearing Obi-Wan's 17th birthday, Qui-Gon is pushed by old friends he shouldn't have; the elusive Gray Order. A scattering of Jedi who follow a code of their own, between the Light and Dark. And while Obi-Wan doesn't agree with their ways in the slightest, they end up fueling his determination. And Qui-Gon knows, just as anything else regarding Obi-Wan Kenobi, he doesn't stand a chance. But maybe they never did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So. This was part of a massive 30 part chapter story I posted eons ago. It was my most popular work, got some nods and awards in the fiction community, but I found it again and almost cringed myself into a seizure. It needed a LITTLE work. So I rewrote this portion. Really this was only a flashback in the whole thing. Didn't depend on the plot. But it was a well loved touch (by me especially). So I hope you enjoy it! I'm no stranger to this fandom or pairing (they're an OTP for sure) - but I'm finally reading the Jedi Apprentice series and there goes all my feels again. Up in arms. Also, since I've never read the Jedi Apprentice series until now - I had no idea what happened between them originally or their beginnings. Just the rough wiki outlines.
> 
> NOTE -- Obi-Wan IS underage. He's nearly 17 in this story and I realize that's pushing it. Maybe not at all for some. But this author in no way, shape, or form supports abhorrent sexual behavior towards minors.

 

_Coruscant_

“Come Obi-Wan. We don’t want to miss the shuttle.”

The young boy, although hardly a boy and now nearing the middle portion of his teenage years, nearly tripped over his robes as he hastened to catch up. He had been at Qui-Gon’s heels nearly from the moment he’d been declared Qui-Gon’s padawan. Which was a vast improvement from the depression he’d fallen into, resigned to becoming a farmer on a planet equally as serene. Boring to a youth of Obi-Wan’s enthusiasm at the very least, a travesty at the worst. And a potential that would have been vastly wasted. It was a painful thing for Qui-Gon to even consider.

It was as though the Force had put the boy right in front of him. And Qui-Gon had gone and ignored the offering, punished as a result for ignoring the Force and giving in to his own fears instead. His own pain and suffering after losing his first Padawan had nearly led to Obi-Wan becoming a farmer and not the formidable Jedi Knight that Qui-Gon knew he’d become. And if Obi-Wan hadn’t been on that planet, if they hadn’t been thrust together in unexpected circumstances, Qui-Gon wasn’t so sure he’d even be here now.

It had all clearly worked out as it should.

“Master where are we going? You wouldn’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you.” Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan’s shoulder just in time to prevent him from being knocked over by a particularly impatient person, heading to the commercial flight lanes. Obi-Wan was growing into a grace that was something to behold. Naturally, he had the reflexes of an Aldeerian. But this was a busy time of year. And he was struggling with his new robes.

Qui-Gon caught the scowl Obi-Wan gave at the person that had nearly knocked him over and gently caught his chin without faltering his own stride, bringing his eyes forward. “Rude he might have been but ours is to deflect negativity. Not to spread it further.”

“Sound like Master Yoda you do.”

Qui-Gon smiled down at Obi-Wan, sensing no malice in his tone, knowing full well he’d taken the lesson to heart. “Because it was Master Yoda who told me the same thing, once upon a time.”

“I can’t imagine you spreading negativity, Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was practically affectionate. He had a warm, reverent undercurrent to his tone when he spoke in such a way that was almost too intimate and it did all sorts of confusing things to Qui-Gon. They’d been together as Master and Padawan nearly a full two years now. It was approaching the twentieth month in fact. Obi-Wan was dutiful, respectful, vastly open to learning everything that was handed to him. They were paired perfectly, their bond marveled at despite their rocky start. It was everything either a Master or a Padawan could strive for.

But Obi-Wan… Qui-Gon understood he was reaching sexual maturity. It was possible for a Padawan to turn their feelings, their respect and their affections, naturally to the person they trusted the absolute most. Qui-Gon’s gut instinct told him that Obi-Wan would prefer men and perhaps even strictly men. He would have to talk with him soon, about their boundaries, about the nature of the Jedi and how it was not their place to love.

But for some reason, to add to his conflicted feelings, the thought caused Qui-Gon to inwardly wince. If that didn’t make him feel even more staggeringly confused.

Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan to a place to sit and he was already moving to greet Senator Omala, bowing, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of his robes. “Senator Omala. It will be my pleasure to escort you back to Ogradon. If you’d have a seat, we have to move quickly. Proper introductions can be carried out once we arrive safely on your home planet.”

“Of course.” Omala smiled warmly, returning his bow. “I trust we are in safe hands with you, Master Jinn. My father spoke very highly of you.”

“Yes.” Qui-Gon held out his hand, watching to make sure Omala and her delegates were securely seated. “Your father was a very wise, very great man. He left quite an impression on me, despite my young age at the time.”

“So to, do we hope to impress you for a second time, once you reach Ogradon.”

Qui-Gon did a quick check with the pilots, reached out with the Force to make sure nothing felt amiss, and seated himself beside Obi-Wan once he was sure everything and everyone was secure. He hadn’t told the boy what they would be doing because he hadn’t been able. Senator Omala was part of a tense and unsteady peace treaty with her sister planet and an attack was feared and imminent. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were to be dispatched to resolve the conflict. Which shouldn’t be too difficult. Qui-Gon was accustomed to diplomatic missions firstly. Secondly - Reethoran, sister society to Ogradon - was far more upset than they were willing to go to war. Their reluctance, Qui-Gon was sure, he could capitalize upon to reason that war was not the answer.

Obi-Wan was a smart boy too. He had heard enough from Qui-Gon and Senator Omala not to ask questions, sensing that he shouldn’t, and trusting Qui-Gon to tell him more when the timing was appropriate. For that, Qui-Gon was proud of him and pleased.

Obi-Wan seemed to pick up on this slightly, through their bond, and shifted to be a bit taller in his seat. He seemed to warm under the unspoken praise and his expression became a diligently serious one, undertaking the task at hand to his full ability.

Qui-Gon carefully kept the smile from his face, and his eyes forward.

 

Ogradon was primarily a mining planet. The crystals were seasonal. Brown to black in the winter and vibrant pink and yellows in the summer and spring months. But summer and spring were a fleeting thing, celebrated over a week affair. Ogradon was in the depths of winter and all the crystals were black, the snow thick and filled with ash. In a way, in it’s harshness, even Ogradon was beautiful. This would be another lesson to Obi-Wan. Finding beauty where they might not be. Finding purpose in seemingly a barren circumstance. And that war was never the answer.

And he did as well as Qui-Gon supposed he would. Obi-Wan was attentive throughout the entire and lengthy proceedings. When Reethoran’s chancellor became upset enough to yell and Qui-Gon in response became as calm and as placid as he was angry, Obi-Wan watched with intelligent eyes and a thoughtful, careful frown. He was learning diplomacy and in all things, it was important.

Not much was accomplished the first day. Ogradon, even the nobility, believed in enduring hardship - to harden themselves with it and to make them as beautiful as the crystals of Ogradon. Qui-Gon and his padawan had quarters, but they had to walk through the ash and course like snow to reach it. And by the time they did, both were quite cold and covered in dust and white flakes that were nearly indistinguishable from either the weather or the volcanoes. The nobility of Ogradon always looked regal, their intricate robes stained white and darkened by ash at the bottoms. Their elaborate make-up was tough enough to withstand the elements and they were a tough enough race not to be bothered with it.

Qui-Gon was certain he and Obi-Wan’s appearance wasn’t going to weather quite so well - pun intended. But it didn’t bother him. For his health, Qui-Gon ascertained the necessity of hygiene. But that was as far it went for him. Obi-Wan as he became older could be particularly fussy where Qui-Gon certainly was not but he was easing. He was enduring. He was learning to be humbled. And Qui-Gon couldn’t be more pleased with his progress and how he was shaping out to be a spectacular Jedi.

They removed all their clothes at the door, to keep from dragging in too much ash and snow, the snow mostly melting in the warmth of their provided quarters. The ceilings were high, grand, the floors heated naturally by volcanic gas. And there was an area where they could put their clothes to be washed and cleaned and returned to them. They would have enough time before the clothes were returned to take care of their nightly routine. They would eat, Obi-Wan might bathe. And they’d settle in for the night for evening lessons and meditations. Their clothes should be returned well before all that was over.

Which was well and good. Because Qui-Gon didn’t miss the hesitant, curious glance Obi-Wan gave in his direction. And he recognized all too well how that gaze was turning in certain directions not approved by the Council. Or the life of a Jedi. Qui-Gon knew he had to do something about it. Quickly. Because, with a heavy feeling in his heart and a sense of foreboding that had nothing to do with the Force, he was responding as Obi-Wan aged and grew more mature physically. And meditating this away hadn’t helped. He didn’t dare admit it out loud either.

This was only a hiccup, a perfectly normal hiccup, in his otherwise perfect relationship with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was not Xanatos. Nothing had gone wrong with his first padawan and nothing would go wrong with this one either. Qui-Gon would not fail. Obi-Wan was just a maturing male. And he was having feelings that were entirely normal.

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said swiftly, to bring Obi-Wan’s eyes back up to his.

Maybe his tone had been a bit scolding, he hadn’t meant it to be. But Obi-Wan hastily averted his wandering eyes. And looked ashamed.

And Qui-Gon immediately softened his tone, smiling patiently at Obi-Wan. “Come.” he said, and nodded him into the room - sans clothes. All the better. They both had to face this properly as Jedi and that meant meeting the problem head on. To naturalize nudity and to not sexualize it. They were all beings of the Force and nudity was as natural to some as the Force itself.

Qui-Gon knelt on the floor in a sandy meditation pit. It was made from the finely course grains of crystals and was a wonderful platform in which to meditate. Truly an experience that he was pleased to soon share with Obi-Wan. When he’d been younger, his former master had taken him to this planet to resolve a similar conflict. The supreme high chancellor had shown a particular fondness towards Qui-Gon, who hadn’t been intimidated by his massive form and badly scarred face. He’d made the crystal meditation beds for the Jedi as a result, for whenever they stayed upon their planet. He even gave them the means to construct them on Coruscant as well.

Obi-Wan looked concerned, as if he’d done something wrong - and he knew the Jedi Code. Qui-Gon knew that he did. But it was the responsibility of the Master to handle these matters. And it happened in the maturing youth. However this was the first time that Qui-Gon had had to face it with a male that was attracted to another male.

“To be a Jedi means to separate yourself from that which would distract us from connecting fully with the Force.” The words soothed Qui-Gon slightly. Somehow. “It’s perfectly normal to discover your attraction to others around your age. It happens to everyone-”

“Did it happen to you?” Obi-Wan asked. It was slightly challenging, but also his tone seemed desperate.

“Yes.” Qui-Gon answered honestly. “I fell in love with another Padawan, or at least I thought it was love. But she and I both realized that it was not the paths we were meant to take.” he pointedly ignored the way Obi-Wan seemed to deflate a bit at the mention of the gender, or a lot, because he couldn’t - it was too difficult to correct. He had to lean on his own training or he was afraid, by the time that Obi-Wan reached full sexual maturity, Qui-Gon was horrified to think of his own growing feelings in the matter. They could both sacrifice their entire lives, lose the Jedi path. And that couldn’t happen. “Our masters both intervened and I’m very grateful that they did. They told us that out of all the people in the entire cosmos, we were sensitive to the Force. We were set on a path that not many could undertake. We had a great purpose. And that purpose required of us to be selfless. And put the needs of others above the passions in our hearts.”

“I understand, Master.” Obi-Wan said and it was hard to see how defeated he looked. But Qui-Gon knew that this was a process.

“Have heart, Obi-Wan. We are connected through the Force and we can love our connection to it through each other. And what you are experiencing is perfectly normal. Use it to strengthen your connection to the Force, and your resolve as a Jedi. Do not be ashamed.”

Obi-Wan looked a little sad but better somehow. Far less defeated, not ashamed, and that was what Qui-Gon wanted. It was not a shameful thing to love. It was not a shameful thing to desire another, to want another physically and to be wanted in turn. But it was not the way of the Jedi.

 

 

A year later, they returned to Ogradon. The planet was consumed in civil war and strife. Chancellor Valkaran, the man who Qui-Gon had considered a good friend, was dead. Reaching a civil agreement was hard fought. Qui-Gon suffered injuries and so did Obi-Wan, his now sixteen, nearly seventeen year old padawan. Fortunately not serious, the minimal injuries, the scrapes and bruises - did little to assuage the grief of lives lost. And fallen friends.

But where all hope had apparently been lost, hope was regained anew. Horrified by their actions, two sister planets and formerly one civilization, reunited in the ashes of the crystals of Ogradon. More unified and stronger than ever. And they’d accomplished it not alone, but with some assistance from a rare breed of Jedi that no Jedi was supposed to speak of, certainly not the Council. A group of Grays. Those between the light and the dark. Those who refused to be either. It was forbidden to speak of them, it was shunned to talk of them if brought up in conversation. Their ways were revoked as ‘unwise’ by the Council.

Qui-Gon greeted Master Tan’Tal like a long lost friend. Because he was one. Long ago, crash landing on Asidion - the residing temple of the Gray Order - Dooku had brought Qui-Gon, his then padawan, to the Grays for healing. They had saved his life and opened his mind to what Qui-Gon could only wished he could embrace. But like he’d told Obi-Wan a year ago now, he had to put his own desires below the good of others. And the Force had told him that it was not his path. Already, Qui-Gon could believe it. Because the thought of not taking Obi-Wan as his padawan, not being there to do so and living on Asidion instead, was very nearly a frightful one.

Tan’Tal embraced Qui-Gon instead of merely accepting his hand, laughing as he warmly squeezed the taller Jedi with claw like hands. “Qui-Gon! Look at you, a giant among mortals!”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help a laugh, his hand falling to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “My padawan might agree with you.”

“So might mine.” Tan’Tal placed a hand on the shoulder of the dark haired boy by his side, eyes so dark they were black - hair just as. He had exotic looks for a human and Qui-Gon could already sense a strong undercurrent of energy exuding from the boy. Powerful. But calmly so. Like a rock that could stay stable in the middle of a river. “Var-Den, meet Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon nodded towards Tan’Tal and Var-Den, and he bowed his head towards Ver-Den slightly. “Pleasure to meet you Ver-Den. You have a good teacher.”

Ver-Den eyed Obi-Wan with unsure eyes, Obi-Wan outright looked almost displeased. But Qui-Gon had been expecting as much. Obi-Wan was very much centered in the light side of the Force. And there Qui-Gon was sure that he would stay. Which was a beautiful thing, knowing that Qui-Gon wouldn’t lose him to the Darker forces so long as he stayed the best mentor and teacher he possibly could be.

“Master Qui-Gon.” Ver-Den held a hand out to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon immediately took it, and shared a mutual bow with the boy - a custom of the Gray Jedi. To meet on the field, respectfully, no matter what standing - as equals. It didn’t mean disrespect. A true Gray would respect either standing in life, whether they be learning, or teaching. And would recognize positions in life easily, without jealousy or scorn.

Obi-Wan almost looked horrified. But Ver-Den just looked at him strangely.

And Tan’Tal just smiled. “Young Kenobi has a strong heart.” And his white eyes blazed warmly, a spark of intuition, perhaps even a vision. “And a soul as light a blue as the oceans of Baiel.”

Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan’s shoulder a squeeze and smiled down at his padawan affectionately. “That he does.”

“Come. May I speak with you?” Tan’Tal asked.

Qui-Gon nodded and looked to Obi-Wan. “Send a report of the situation to the Jedi Council. Spare no detail but keep it brief. We have celebrations to attend.”

Obi-Wan gave a perfectly respectful, textbook bow to Qui-Gon, arms at his sides. “Yes, Master.” And he shifted a look at Ver-Den and then turned on his heel to leave. Qui-Gon watched him with a smile, nodding towards Tan’Tal.

“I can’t slight him, Tan’Tal. His heart and spirit are exactly as you say. And I’m only so lucky.”

Tan’Tal nodded and strangely, he didn’t dismiss Ver-Den. “May I speak to you as a friend? But also as one that walks two sides of the Force.”

Qui-Gon nodded. “You may.”

Tan’Tal, once they were a measured distance away from anyone that could overhear - and with only Ver-Den standing respectfully sentry at his Master’s side - regarded Qui-Gon with wise eyes. And Qui-Gon was momentarily struck by the depths of them. Tan’Tal was a seer mostly, a prophet but that term was regarded lightly. To have that gaze turned upon him now, with such knowing, was a surprise. “You are bonded with Kenobi…”

Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably, a broken crystal shard of Ogradon crunching beneath his boots. And with a wince, he pulled his foot away. “He’s my padawan. We’re fortunate to have such a bond.”

“No.” Tan’Tal shook his head. “It is more than this and you know it-”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to argue, old temper flaring to life-

“-and you know this!” Tan’Tal spoke calmly over him. “And it seems to be happening whether you attempt to cling to your code of no emotion, no attachments-”

“Tan’Tal.” Qui-Gon’s temper snapped. But he tried to say it as least loudly as he could, staring down at the man and begging him to quit. No his bond with Obi-Wan had not stopped deepening. They seemed to be attracted to each other regardless, as if some invisible pull was steadily tethering them to each other. As if their souls were determined to completely connect in no way that Master or Padawan could. Worse, it felt like every time they tried to distance from each other like any Jedi should, it felt like detaching barbs from their hearts. And they bled.

“How do you know that it is not the way of the Force?” Tan’Tal challenged.

Qui-Gon fell quiet, suddenly realizing that they weren’t alone. Obi-Wan was standing a measured distance away, watching them with stormy - unsure eyes. That were almost protective. He wanted to hear what was being said, as much he didn’t like to see that it was upsetting his Master. And Qui-Gon felt an affection pull deep within his suddenly tired soul. A soul that seemed to ache to do all the wrong things.

He reached up and rubbed at his forehead. “You must not speak of this.”

“You know I would not.” Tan’Tal said. “But it will be noticeable soon to your Council. If it isn’t already.”

It was. Yoda had already given him a rather irate warning. Practically a lashing.

Tan’Tal reached up and placed his hand over Qui-Gon’s heart. “Ease your suffering. If it is the way of the Force, so it shall be. Perhaps you will force the Council to grow past their own stubborn ways and to keep them from becoming too nearsighted.”

Qui-Gon parted ways with Tan’Tal feeling sullen and bristling from unseen injuries evoked at his words. Why was this happening? Why was such a thing happening in the form of such a beautiful thing? It felt as though it was the Force and the Jedi Code dictated that he embrace it. But the Jedi Code also strictly forbade it. So where did that leave them? Adrift and in danger of losing everything, Obi-Wan most specifically. All of his training, his bright future as a promising Jedi. All of it could be compromised because of the irrefutable fact that their hearts and souls refused to not love one another.

Qui-Gon barely ate. The newly appointed chancellor, Valora, even asked him if he was ill. Obi-Wan just looked steadily more upset. But even he excused himself with impeccable manners. And only tossed his napkin down with a bit more force in Qui-Gon’s direction, so subtle a gesture that was so obvious to Qui-Gon. But then, later that night, he refused tea. Outright.

He reached out, took the ornately carved tea kettle right from Qui-Gon’s hand, and set it aside. “I spoke with the Gray Jedi-”

Qui-Gon’s temper frayed, badly and he felt desperate and cornered. “That is forbidden-”

Obi-Wan was standing toe to toe with him and refused to be daunted by their difference in height. “Most of what they say, I cannot comprehend. The Council is right-”

 _Thank the Force._ Qui-Gon thought but with a wince too.

“There cannot be a middle ground between the light and dark. The risks of walking that close to the Darkside is too great. But I do agree with one thing and I have meditated on this very strongly... nearly every night that you refuse to leave my thoughts-”

“Obi-Wan-” Qui-Gon tried desperately. Sith they were standing close. And Qui-Gon was too weak to draw himself properly apart.

“It feels as though this bond between us is being willed by the very Force itself. It feels no different than feeling the force in the winds, in life itself, in the very ground we stand upon. I feel it in my heart, the way I feel it in my hands when I reach out to use it to push against something I need to move-” Obi-Wan stepped further still, blue eyes vibrant and lips, lips tilted up towards him. “But for all my strength I cannot move you.”

Qui-Gon did the cowardly thing, or perhaps the right thing, and promptly fled the room. Out of their quarters, walking with long strides until he knew he wasn’t being followed. And then he kept walking, past the ruined streets and blasted buildings. Into the gardens and through a broken gate, blackened by blaster fire, into a crystal valley. There were hills and bluffs here and the crystals were damaged but turning glowing hues of pink and yellow valiantly. As if they refused to be destroyed.

It was a painful metaphor he’d walked himself right into.

Qui-Gon paced at first, wearing tracks into the sand. And when that did nothing he forced himself to stop and take deep breaths. It was wrong but it felt painfully and purely right. But he couldn’t lose Obi-Wan. He could not destroy his future. The boy, rapidly becoming a man, was barely seventeen. Obi-Wan had not so passively aggressively declared a few months ago that on his planet - boys his age were being arranged to be wed. And truly, Obi-Wan was becoming a young man. But Jedi were not allowed this. And yet the Force demanded this.

Qui-Gon heard footsteps just as he’d all but given up on quieting his unrelenting and tumultuous thoughts. And he opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan walking towards him. And while he tread carefully, his eyes were just a little wounded and a lot determined. And when he was within earshot, he walked further still. Until their boots were nearly touching. “If you tell me, that within your heart, you do not believe this is the will of the Force… I will speak no more of this. Ever again.”

Qui-Gon opted to stay silent, his mind racing and his heart warring with it.

Obi-Wan looked up at him with pleading eyes, a love in them that ran deeply, and passionately. “Master-”

Qui-Gon leaned down, silenced his mind, and let his heart win. He let the Force flow through him and tell him what was right. And the moment that his lips connected with Obi-Wan’s parted mouth - that. For whatever happened, whatever punishment, whatever this would result in. This was right. And Qui-Gon had never felt more connected to the Force than in this moment. And Obi-Wan gasped in shock and desperation and pure relief, mouth parting against Qui-Gon’s lips with a panting breath and wordlessly asking for more. His his hands had reached up for Qui-Gon’s tunic but Qui-Gon intercepted them and took them within his own much larger ones.

The boy’s lips were soft and supple and more so accidentally than any sort of experience or skill, Obi-Wan’s tongue reached out and touched Qui-Gon’s bottom lip. And Qui-Gon captured Obi-Wan’s mouth more deeply, the boy groaning and giving back just as much. It felt like the oceans cascading into another, deeper sea. It was overwhelming, blissfully perfect. It was everything, everything-

They broke away with a gasp. They broke away with lungs entirely forgetting what air was.

And their foreheads brushed and Obi-Wan, in a field of glowing crystals that refused to die, gave Qui-Gon’s soul back. A soul he hadn’t realized had been continuing without it’s other half. And Obi-Wan pressed a loving kiss across his rougher beard and cheek, pressing himself into Qui-Gon’s hands, subtly begging for more. More of which Qui-Gon could no longer deny them. “Qui-Gon. Please-” Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan had said ‘Master’ and that he almost hadn’t caught it. But his name was like a reawakening.

They made all haste back to their quarters. Fireworks had started, it was the first day of celebrations and now two planets were united, but no one was looking for them. Qui-Gon wasn’t going to process that. Both Jedi were far too concerned with getting to each other in all ways, as quickly and as intimately as possible, with a desperate sort of fire that might have been years in the making.

They were kissing as soon as the door was shut. Obi-Wan surprised Qui-Gon by pressing him right against the door and kissing the very air out of his lungs. But he was only caught off guard a second, reaching around to capture the back of Obi-Wan’s neck in his hand. The other and he was pulling the boy close, right up against his stomach and chest, leaning down further to get more of his sweet lips the warm caress of his tongue.

And with well practiced hands, they rid themselves of robes, tunics. But Qui-Gon stopped when Obi-Wan started on his. And then he was lifting him without thought, by the thighs, into his arms - Obi-Wan’s thighs cradled around his hips and their groins pressed together. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan’s arousal pressed against his stomach and moaned softly into another round of kissing that stole his breath and robbed him of the ability to speak. Obi-Wan had his arms around his neck and Qui-Gon instinctively moved to the crystal sand meditation pit.

Using the Force to guide their descent, Obi-Wan’s humanoid race matured far more slowly than most and he was still smaller than most humans but still a growing boy nearly a man. Qui-Gon with aided strength dropped to his knees in the sand pit and reached up to cradle his neck and head in a hand, lowering him into the sand. And Obi-Wan was kissing him like he couldn’t get enough, body hungry, untouched and so eager. Qui-Gon did his best to still the trembling in his own callused hands but Obi-Wan was entirely undoing him.

And then a calm struck Qui-Gon, just like that. The Force was willing this. It was in every step they took, every traded kiss, every touch and caress and every loving plea for all of the same. This was right. This was the most sure and right thing Qui-Gon had ever done. And his hands stopped shaking and he let his fingers sink into warm sand, feeling the heightened sense of the Force through the crystallized sand. And he gazed down at his boy, his padawan, whose vibrant blues were staring at him with slightly swollen lips and a breathless, wordless plea for all of Qui-Gon. All of them together, finally.

Qui-Gon leaned down and answered that call, claiming Obi-Wan’s mouth with his own and feeling stars aline.

“We can take this slowly-” Qui-Gon breathed reassuringly in his year. “Wait until you are ready-”

“Feel me, Master.” Obi-Wan answered against his neck, arching his hips into Qui-Gon’s stomach subtly, pressing himself into Qui-Gon - nearly every inch. “Feel how much I want you, need you-”

Qui-Gon’s eyes fell closed and he gave a ragged groan, but reigned in every bit of his experience and patience. And he took Obi-Wan’s hand in his, easing it down his body, past his stomach - and onto his own erection. Let him feel the size of it, considerable to anyone’s standards but especially to a much smaller Obi-Wan. And he met his eyes, Obi-Wan going a bit still in his grasp. And his mouth had fallen open, not exactly fear in his eyes, but definitely an understanding he hadn’t before. But typical to the boy, suddenly all that turned to sheet determined. And a strong desire to please.

He leaned back, into the warm sand, fixing Qui-Gon with every bit of power those blue eyes were truly capable of - and reached down to undo his obi that bound his tunics. And all Qui-Gon could do, poised over Obi-Wan and nearly dwarfing the boy in his shadow, was watch as Obi-Wan bared his torso and opened his tunics for Qui-Gon to with what he wished. And Qui-Gon immediately ran his hands over Obi-Wan’s chest, marveling at the feel - the mixture of hardening muscle and boyish fat. And Obi-Wan’s hands covered his. “I’ll trust in the Force, master. And in you.”

Qui-Gon wanted to argue but he didn’t have the strength.

He needed to leave Obi-Wan for lubrication but didn’t want to leave him, not in the least bit. So he took him by the wrists, and pulled him up - and into his arms. Into his lap, straddling his hips and his arousal, to meet him for another kiss. Obi-Wan was giving breathy gasps of pleasure against his lips and Qui-Gon found a knee and then stood. He kissed Obi-Wan straight to the bathroom, momentarily pressed him up against a wall so that he could reach the medicine compartment over the sink. And when it didn’t go easily, impatiently he just pulled it open - promising he’d fix it later.

Urgency abated now that they had what they needed, Qui-Gon walked with an easier pace back to the crystal sand pit. He kissed Obi-Wan leisurely, feeling as if this was some sort of dream. To have Obi-Wan here, intimately, kissing him. Feeling his lips upon his. To about to have him in all ways, completely. Qui-Gon could scarcely believe how right it all really felt.

He laid Obi-Wan back into the sand and eased back on top of him and they were both nervous. Surely. But it scarcely showed. They were just desperate to be with each other in all the ways they’d denied up until this very point.

Qui-Gon kissed Obi-Wan with loving, languished patience, enjoying the very act of it itself - unable to get enough. When they both couldn’t hold out any longer however, Obi-Wan’s hands anywhere and everywhere he could reach and Qui-Gon the same - in a more restrained fashion - Qui-Gon urged Obi-Wan onto his stomach. He knew the mechanics. But that was mostly all. His only experience, however minimal, was of another realm entirely.

Stripping Obi-Wan of the rest of his clothes and boots, Qui-Gon couldn’t help but run a reverent hand down the gentle curve of a back, and then he took both of Obi-Wan’s pert ass cheeks into both his hands. Each one he could grasp entirely in a palm. And Obi-Wan made keening, pleading noises and breathed out his pleasure in soft gasps, pushing his buttocks into Qui-Gon’s hands further. And Qui-Gon, overwhelmed at the sight and feel, spread Obi-Wan’s cheeks in his hands and squeezed - massaged. Pressed a kiss in-between his shoulders.

He was achingly hard. And Qui-Gon reached for the lube decisively.

He positioned them both on their sides, facing each other, Obi-Wan in his arms. Qui-Gon cradled him in an arm, around his shoulders and back, the other - fingers coated in lube - carefully found Obi-Wan’s firm behind. And he stroked into the crack, touching Obi-Wan’s virgin entrance, untouched purely in this intimate a fashion. Stroking it, Obi-Wan moaning quietly in his arms while biting a lip in his teeth, begged for more with spread legs - so open and trusting, his palms flat on his Master’s chest. And Qui-Gon was amazed at the sight.

At the wondrous, gut clenching, dizzily arousing sight of Obi-Wan responding so keenly under his fingers.

“Are you ready?” Qui-Gon asked, pressing gently against Obi-Wan’s entrance briefly on a pass and stroke, the boy nodding fervently.

“Yes, Master. Please-”

“Be still for me Obi-Wan-” Qui-Gon desperately didn’t want to hurt him, pressing a finger slowly inside, easing it past the tight ring of muscle and the initial resistance. “That’s it-” he praised, through a groan from Obi-Wan - high pitched and needy. And Qui-Gon stroked his finger carefully inwards and back out, massaging his extraordinarily tight ass. Obi-Wan was grasping a hold of Qui-Gon’s shoulders now, looking at him with pleading eyes and Qui-Gon kept stroking until he felt sure he could add another finger.

Even his fingers were large to the far smaller Obi-Wan. The boy was certainly distinctly feeling each added. And when the second eased into his ass beside the first, Qui-Gon even roughly groaned. Obi-Wan had cried out but not in pain, biting a lip and moaning encouraging around quivering hips and desperate, soft pleas for more. More strokes of Qui-Gon’s fingers inside of him, deeper, harder. Qui-Gon tempered each plea but fufilled his wishes. Obi-Wan was hard and leaking against their stomachs and Qui-Gon was awestruck.

A third and Obi-Wan was gently rocking his hips now, nuzzling his face into Qui-Gon neck and gasping quietly, nearly fucking himself on Qui-Gon’s fingers in time with his Master’s thrusts and stretching. And Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan’s lips on his neck, under his chin, tilted up and begging to be kissed. So Qui-Gon found his lips and urged Obi-Wan into a deep kiss, relishing in the moan that Obi-Wan gave around their tongues. He was practically panting and Qui-Gon was all but lost in the sensations he was experiencing.

He desperately wanted to be inside Obi-Wan but he was also considerably larger to the boy and was determined to make sure he was properly stretched. And that, above all else, a minimal amount of pain was caused. Obi-Wan was a virgin. It was unavoidable that there would be some.

“Master-” Obi-Wan’s gasped against his neck and pulled back to meet his eyes. “I feel a pressure between my thighs, at the base of my spine. It feels as if I might-”

Qui-Gon lovingly stroked his three, thick fingers inside of the boy and back out again, deep strokes - reveling in the desperate look on Obi-Wan’s face, so close to a climax, so new to all these sensations, clinging onto to Qui-Gon with gasping breaths. And he started firmer thrusts with his fingers. “Come for me Obi-Wan.” It would be easier, with the boy already satiated and relaxed, to sheathe himself inside of Obi-Wan. Although at this rate, Qui-Gon was concerned by his own stamina, given the tightness of Obi-Wan clenching around his fingers.

Obi-Wan cried out loudly and kept crying out, reaching his climax all over Qui-Gon’s chest and stomach. Qui-Gon held him as close as he possibly could, kissing his lips, swallowing down his soft cries - massaging his tight innards with three large fingers until he felt the boy ease and the grip on his fingers relax just a bit. But only just. Obi-Wan’s body was glistening with just a light sheen of sweat, he looked overcome, and - fixing Qui-Gon with an emotionally charged look - he leaned in to meet his Master’s lips with his own.

And Qui-Gon was right there to greet him. As they kissed, deep and languid - Qui-Gon feeling on the edge of desperate - he carefully eased his fingers out of Obi-Wan’s tight depths. The boy gasped against his lips, groaning softly, hips jerking - still sensitive from his climax. But even when he twitched, he retaliated by pressing closer to Qui-Gon, every inch - begging with his body for more. The boy was barely going soft in fact, begging Qui-Gon with his lips and tongue, breaking away from his Master’s lips to give pleading, encouraging kisses to Qui-Gon’s throat. And when Qui-Gon felt teeth, he lost what little self-control he had left.

Qui-Gon rolled Obi-Wan over, onto his back in the sand, they were both sandy now. And, straddling the boy’s hips, he knelt up over his padawan to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. And when Obi-Wan reached up to touch him with his hands, Qui-Gon tossed the last of his clothes aside and grabbed him by the wrists, pinning them into the sand over Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan groaned and arched up into his touch but any complaints, Qui-Gon took them from Obi-Wan’s lips with the deepest kiss he could manage. He wanted Obi-Wan to feel every bit of his possessiveness. He wanted him to feel the grip on his wrists, the deep - claiming nature of the kiss. Qui-Gon wanted him to feel the weight of his body. He wanted Obi-Wan to know exactly who he belonged to. Or more rather, he wanted Obi-Wan to know that it was Qui-Gon who cared for him, took care of him, and had the ability to be the strong foundation from which he could grow and develop into the Jedi Qui-Gon knew he was destined to be.

Judging by Obi-Wan’s reactions - he scarcely had any complaints.

Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan’s wrists and urged him onto his stomach. The sand had an incredible ability to shift shapes to suit practically any position of the user, ideal for species of different variations. And while he was sure it hadn’t been intended for this purpose, the sand allowed Obi-Wan to raise his hips and buttocks in a perfect way, all while being entirely supported. Qui-Gon had perfect access and Obi-Wan couldn’t be made any more comfortable than this.

But Qui-Gon hesitated, running a large hand down the beautiful curve of Obi-Wan’s spine. “Are you sure, Obi-Wan?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire existence.” And the breathy statement set Qui-Gon’s very soul alight.

Qui-Gon leaned down to cover Obi-Wan’s body with his own, kissing his neck and biting lightly into his shoulder. The groan he got in return was encouraging and Qui-Gon reached down for his own erection - which to say it was hard, would be a massive understatement. “Relax, my Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon told the smaller boy with a grunt as the head of his cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s tight entrance, soothing a hand up his thigh and resting it on his flank before letting his elbow rest in the sand. “I can’t promise you this won’t hurt. But I’ll do my best to ensure it hurts as little as possible.”

“I know you will, Master.” Obi-Wan assured him. And the sheer need in his voice, the lust, the desire - the love. It was what drove Qui-Gon ever so carefully forward, and there was pressure, but it didn’t appear to hurt. And Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a groan and Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice utilizing the Force in a whole different way and was about to inwardly commend him for his ingenuity -

But he lost the ability to form rational thought as the pressure of Obi-Wan gave and Qui-Gon was admitted into his tight, incredible heat. They both lost the ability to breathe and Qui-Gon was well aware of how big he was, especially in comparison to Obi-Wan. Especially considering that Obi-Wan was a virgin. And he was extraordinarily careful. He was surprised there was only pain when a third of him was inside and Obi-Wan’s ass was struggling to stretch to accommodate him, and not outright. But Obi-Wan did the right thing and immediately reached back to still Qui-Gon’s progress with a hand on his thigh. “Don’t you stop.” Obi-Wan gasped. “Just give me a second. Right there. Oh Qui-Gon-”

Qui-Gon’s eyes fell closed and he gave a ragged groan and now he was definitely using the Force to both keep himself upright and to keep himself from coming entirely too soon. So Qui-Gon further distracted himself by stroking his free hand over Obi-Wan’s body, wherever he could reach, murmuring encouraging words in his ear. And he could reach quite a lot of him. Nearly from ankle to shoulder actually. And he started thrusting carefully, out and back in, but no further in depth. Just shallow thrusts to help the stretching. And it was already so much, such an incredible sensation, that Qui-Gon struggled to cope with the overload.

Obi-Wan seemed to be in the same state but he was also getting frustrated. “Please more, Master. I need all of you, please-”

Qui-Gon didn’t have the heart to tell him that it might not be possible, just yet. But he did give him more. And he actually got half way in, with a good deep thrust, before Obi-Wan cried out in more than just pleasure. So Qui-Gon murmured soothing words, and got to his knees behind him. And holding Obi-Wan’s hips down to ensure that he didn’t move or that the boy didn’t get overeager, he started to gently fuck him just there. Just like that. With only half of his length and girth. But even that, to Obi-Wan was considerable. Frankly, even to Qui-Gon that was considerable.

And his hands were large enough to cradle both Obi-Wan’s hips and most of his buttocks in a firm grip. And Obi-Wan’s skin was glistening with sweat in the moonlight. The tight heat of him was beyond blissful. Qui-Gon knew he was also sweating too, probably more so, and there was nothing more primal than this joining. He’d never felt the Force more alive, he’d never been more in-tuned. If there was any question that their joining was not only being encouraged, but graced with the presence of the Force, Qui-Gon would dare any Force sensitive individual to declare one. Because they wouldn’t be able.

“Master!” Obi-Wan cried out loudly, high and desperate and Qui-Gon knew exactly why. He was feeling the same way, but silently, the pressure building at the base of his spine and in his groin - he was tight enough to burst. And he leaned down and immediately gave the boy the contact they both craved. Both of his hands found Obi-Wan as he thrust, half in, ever mindful of his size compared to the boy. Ever mindful of just how much he could take at the moment. And Obi-Wan grasped his hands back with all the strength he was capable of.

“Master I-!” Obi-Wan started.

“Say my name.” Qui-Gon encouraged him. “Say it.”

“ _Qui-Gon_ -!” And Obi-Wan came.

And so did Qui-Gon. Reflexively almost, but honestly - it was a wonder he’d lasted as long as he had. And he shouted his climax, grasping onto Obi-Wan’s hands, nuzzling his face into the boy’s neck - the tightness of Obi-Wan made more slick as he poured himself inside - coming so hard that it was a wonder he didn’t lose consciousness. Obi-Wan’s symphony of cries were constant and he was practically shaking in Qui-Gon’s grasp as he came and kept coming. Qui-Gon himself was reeling and his climax seemed to last for eternity, time ceased to have meaning. They were one soul, one being, one bright coalition of energy in the sprawling vastness that was the Force. They were the Force. They were one with it and life itself and each other through it and it was like an entire reawakening - spiritual and otherwise.

“Oh Qui-Gon-” Obi-Wan whispered, however long he wasn’t sure. But then, in an almost broken voice - but not broken in a negative way. “I love you. I love you-”

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon’s breath caught and he felt tears come to his eyes, “I love you-” he breathed.

Obi-Wan made a choked noise, his breaths only now beginning to even. And then, what felt like an eternity later of holding each other, enjoying the closeness - his padawan surprised him by laughing. Just a light sound, as if he was still out breath.

“What?” Qui-Gon asked, amused.

“You are entirely sheathed within me.” Obi-Wan chuckled.

Qui-Gon felt instantly horrified, almost reflexively pulling back to look. But he didn’t have to, because he could feel it. And Obi-Wan laughed outright, quickly reaching back to grab him, with a wince no less because Qui-Gon had almost accidentally pulled out too quick, “No! No.” his laugh dissolved to a gentle but very warm chuckle. “Stay, stay. Just stay.”

Qui-Gon grunted, forced himself to relax, and shivered at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s slick heat fully encompassing his softening erection. He had no idea when that had happened, and he was hoping that Obi-Wan wasn’t injured. It was probably when they had came, the added slickness easing the friction. And the desire to join utterly and completely, apparently they had physically made it so.

And how long they lay like that, Qui-Gon wasn’t sure. They maybe even dozed. But typically, it was Obi-Wan who diplomatically pointed out that they were a mess. Granted, the most beautiful mess they could be. But covered in black, purple, and tan sand. And sweat and Obi-Wan had been filled up with Qui-Gon’s seed. Qui-Gon wasn’t bothered but he respected that Obi-Wan might be. And at last, they parted. But only to join again in the bath that Obi-Wan ran for them both. And again in the shower, because Obi-Wan declared now that he had to rinse off from the bath.

But Qui-Gon could scarcely keep his hands off of him a fourth time. And finally, in the glow of fireworks and the crescendo of what would a six day celebration of unity and joining after decades of strife, they slept - together and in each other’s arms. And Qui-Gon knew that they’d never be parted again. He knew that within his very soul. For they were one soul. Now and for the rest of eternity.

FIN //


End file.
